


Generous

by Whovian13



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whovian13/pseuds/Whovian13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver finally gets to take care of Connor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Generous

I once heard some joke about Connor having a “voodoo penis,” but I can attest that Connor’s penis does nothing more than any other penis out there. The magic is in Connor’s generosity. I mean, there _is_ a reason that even the most steadfast of one-night-stand guys come back for more. Connor would probably call it talent or skill or something, but it’s not just that. Yeah, he’s good with his hands. Really, really good. And his tongue. His whole mouth, actually.

But the point is, he’s the very definition of a generous lover. Maybe it’s from some deep down need to please people, maybe it’s his competitive nature, but Connor goes into every sexual encounter with the goal of being the best his partner has ever had. And he usually is.

The first time we were together, he pulled out all the stops. He wanted to try everything, and maybe I was a little desperate that night—it had been a while for me—but I let him do it. He told me later that I was the most responsive lover he’d ever had, that he broke his one-per-customer rule because he wanted to see what other noises he could get me to make. I still think it was partly because of the hacking, but he did seem to try something new every time. It was like he was trying to best even himself.

The problem with all of this is that he’s so focused on proving himself that it can be hard to get a word (or a blowjob) in edgewise. I mean, he always gets off—he’s not _that_ selfless—but he leaves little room on the agenda for Connor-focused activities. And me, I just couldn’t let that slide. I don’t have to be the one in control all the time, but I also can’t let someone else do all the work.

I told him I wanted to top, and so he offered to ride me. Now, okay, that’s hot as hell, but it kind of defeats the point. So I flipped him over onto his back, pinned his arms up over his head, and rested my weight on his hips. The look in his eyes was wild and just a touch nervous, so I loosened my grip a bit and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“I want to take care of you, if you’ll let me.”

I watched his face relax, and then he nodded, his eyes still wide. And that night, well, it was a totally different experience.

I think Connor has this idea that if he’s not the one actively giving pleasure, then he’s not good in bed. Which is silly, because the way he talks about me simply letting him rim me, you’d think I won the sex Olympics. So it took a little while to get him to fully relax. But we got there. I explored his body until I found the best, most sensitive places. I smoothed my palms over his chest, his stomach, down his thighs and back up, until he finally began to focus on his own pleasure for once in his life. Finally, with my tongue gliding up the “v” of his hip, I felt his muscles loosen and his body sink into the mattress.

And then Connor Walsh became the best lover I’d ever had.

I’ve never really been into talk of any kind during sex, let alone “dirty talk,” but Connor opened his mouth and blew my mind. Instead of just my name or the occasional curse, it was like he was having a revelation in my bed.

“Oh my god, Oliver, that feels so good…your tongue is—and your hands…I want you…I want—Ollie!” Then it got more and more specific. “God, your hand feels so good on my dick, and ohmygod I didn’t even know I liked having my nipples sucked…Ollie, can you please—you smell so good, kiss me…”

He wrapped his arms around my neck and hiked a knee up to cradle my hips between his thighs. I kissed his mouth for a minute until he started bucking up against me, and then I pushed his arms back over his head.

“I got you,” I told him, “we’ll get there.”

I can say from experience that vulnerability is not a common look on Connor. But his face right then was telling me that he trusted me, that he was willing to put his pleasure in my hands. It made my heart race.

I kissed him one more time before reaching for the lube and then licking my way down his chest. When I reached his hard, beautiful cock, I sucked it into my mouth, savoring the salty smoothness and humming in pleasure.

Then the talking started again.

“Oliver, Oliver, I don’t know if I can, god that feels too good…”

He was breathing heavily, his hands in my hair, almost petting me as I slid my lips down and back over his hard length.

“Don’t make me come yet, I want—oh, do that with your tongue again, yeah, oh jeez, but I want you inside me when I come…”

I finally took pity on him and pulled off, giving him a few more tugs with my hand before uncapping the lube.

“Back or stomach?”

He blinked a few times, and then I swear he blushed.

“I…I want to see you.”

I grinned, and his mouth quirked up a bit too.

“Okay,” I said, stretching up to kiss his mouth one more time. I pressed a finger into him, gently moving it to work the lube in. He moaned pretty much continuously as I added more fingers, finally breaking into real words at three.

“Come on, Ollie, give it to me, come on, I want you, I want your cock, oh god, oh god, ooooh…”

He drew out his moan as I pushed into him, slow and steady, and when I was in all the way he closed his eyes and threw his head back.

God, that’s the most beautiful sight.

Another groan as I pulled out a little ways, and then a sigh of contentment when I pushed back in.

“Oh god, Ollie, we have to do this more often, oh my god…” And then he was craning his head up off the pillow to reach my lips, kissing me with a wet, open mouth and panting breaths.

I tried to kiss him back with all of the coordination I could muster, while I drove into him over and over, my hips spurred on by Connor’s ever-increasing passion.

He raised his knees higher and higher until he finally just wrapped his legs around my waist. I could feel his heels digging into my lower back, urging me on. Meanwhile, his hands fluttered and grasped at my skin, his fingertips slipping along my sweat-soaked back. I could feel the strength in his arms when he curled them around my neck and clung as if afraid I would leave too much space between us. Using the leverage of his legs gripping my waist, he rocked his hips up to meet me, grunting with satisfaction every time we managed a deeper thrust, a better angle.

From kissing his sweet, delicious mouth, I moved my lips down to taste the sweat-salty skin of his neck, licking the dip behind his earlobe, then sucking hungrily along the line of his stubble. The soft rasp of hair against my cheek turned me on even more, and before I knew it I was biting harder than I meant to on the line of his collarbone.

He cried out, the pain seeming to have pushed him into overdrive. His arms flailed weakly against the sheets, his hips bucked wildly, and his whole body seemed to shudder with pleasure.

“Oliver! Oh my god, touch me, touch me!” His head thrashed from side to side, and one hand flew into my hair and latched on.

I licked wetly at his reddened skin before raising up a bit on one hand. I watched his gorgeous face as I roughly grasped his cock, pulling and twisting until he came messily over my hand. Then I leaned down to kiss him, his stuttered breath cooling my lips, and he responded with drunken enthusiasm.

When I began thrusting slowly, gently, once more into his lax body, his arms came back up to wrap me up and pull me closer to him. His hands slid down my back until they clutched at my ass, massaging along with the rhythm of my hips.

“Connor, almost…oh god!” I cried, when he slipped his fingers between my cheeks and pressed against my hole. Overcome with sensation and lust, I finally spilled into him, collapsing into his embrace.

After a moment, I pulled back, gently easing out of him and disposing of the condom. He whimpered, barely audible, but sighed warmly when I came back to gracelessly drape my body over his.

“Thank you,” I whispered, with a soft peck to his temple.

He tilted his head to look at me, a sleepy, confused expression on his face.

“For what?” he mumbled, barely awake. “I didn’t do anything for you.”

Resting my head on his chest, I pressed one last kiss to his heated skin.

“You gave me everything.”

 

 


End file.
